


first-name basis

by stonerjohnlaurens



Series: I'm including women in the sequel! (The Modern Lesbian Hamilton AU) [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Lesbians!, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Meetings, Swearing, Teasing, Trans Aaron Burr, Trans Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonerjohnlaurens/pseuds/stonerjohnlaurens
Summary: Alexandra Hamilton is a simple girl, really, she is. She goes to a wonderful college in New York, she has a stellar roommate, and she really likes girls. There's not much else there.The beginning of Modern Hamilton Lesbian AU that you haven't thought of, but you're probably going to read anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially, this is a modern college AU. The only difference is that the entire Revolutionary set are women rather than men, and they all like other women. I don't think it can get much simpler than that, and I don't care if you dislike it.

Her scuffed converses squeak as she takes the last step up the stairs to the second story of the building. She never did trust elevators. She worries that her dirty shoes will scuff the pristine surface underneath them, but calms down once she’s sure the floor is unscathed.

 

She’s mostly new to Barnard’s campus, as she transferred only a few months back.

 

She runs inside the halls of Elliott, her designated residence hall, per request of her roommate. All he sent her was  _ get here right now, I know you’re out of class, we need to talk. _

 

Barnard isn’t a Co-Ed institution, which makes her roommate seem like a bit of an anomaly. Her roommate is a transgender guy named Aaron, and they were paired up as roommates because they have that in common.

 

Alex is a trans girl, or trans woman, as she’s now becoming accustomed to saying. It’s weird, the quick change from “you’re barely old enough to make your own decisions” to “okay, you’re a goddamn adult, Alex, get it together.” She’s only 19, a sophomore and legal adult officially, and she couldn’t be more scared.

 

But those thoughts could wait. Right now, she needs to know what Aaron’s angry at her about before she explodes.

 

She bursts into the room and shouts “WHAT!” as loud as she can muster, out of pent-up stress and anticipation of the worst. Aaron jolts, and Alex instantaneously regrets being so loud. This is why she never raises her voice. She tends to startle others when she does it, and she’d never want to bother anyone.

 

“Jesus, Alexandra, you nearly scared me to death,” He says after a few bouts of regulated breathing.

 

“Sorry,” she responds, barely audible.

 

He must sense the sad tone in her voice. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I should rephrased my text message, probably. It is a bit nerve-wracking when you can’t hear me say it, huh?”

 

She nods absently, twirls her hair around her finger. She’s really pleased with how long it’s getting.

 

“Well, just to reiterate, I’m not angry at you.” He pauses. “I’m frustrated with you, but even that’s not in a bad way.”

 

“How can you be frustrated with someone in a good way?” She asks, genuinely confused.

 

“I’m just frustrated with the way you are, Alexandra, your overall attitude, and that’s why we’re changing it. Tonight. You owe me a night out still, and we’re doing it tonight.”

 

Alex groans. Aaron’s an extrovert. Rumor around campus has it that he wasn’t always this way, and he used to be pretty quiet and snobby. Aaron’s close friend Tabitha told Alex (and the entirety of Elliott hall, Tabitha’s just that loud) that it’s because of his top-surgery. Ever since he got that literal and metaphorical weight off of his chest, he’s been open to talking to just about anyone about anything. Alex remembers when they met quite vividly. 

 

Aaron asked her if she was lost or not, and she unloaded onto him, sputtering on about her insecurities about coming to a new college and being alone. He had then held a finger up to her mouth to silence her and asked in the most soothing tone  _ “Can I buy you a drink?” _

 

_ “That would be nice,”  _ She remembers saying, nearly sobbing at his kindness. He laughed and flashed her his fake ID, one that said the actually 19 year old Aaron Burr turns 22 in December. They then rushed off to the nearest bar, where they got to know each other over sips of pretty drinks and beer.

 

They became fast friends. After a week of classes, they realized they were uncomfortable with rooming with cis women. They switched roommates quickly and now happily reside in Elliott.

 

“We went out a few weeks ago,” Alex says dismissively. “Remember? When we met.”

 

“Alexandra, that was nearly  _ nine weeks ago _ .”

 

“Oh.” Alex curses under her breath. She let herself get so swamped with midterms, she barely registered the holidays fast approaching.

 

“It’s officially Fall Break now, so we have a nice long weekend to loosen up. I want to take you to this really nice place in town.”

 

“Burr…”

 

“No. No whining. Think of it as roommate bonding. Be ready by 9:00.”

 

It’s already 7:00. Shit.

 

The place Burr takes Alex to is rather nice, she must admit. It’s around 40 minutes by subway, so they get there around 10. Alex is conscious of this, and she checks her watch every few minutes to make sure time doesn’t get away from her. She’s always anxious, but she’s especially anxious when she’s out in the city too late.

 

The place is a club on West 12 th , Cubbyhole, and according to Google, it’s one of the most popular lesbian bars in the city.

 

“Oh, Burr,”

 

“Oh, Hamilton.” He replies, playful and teasing in his tone.

 

“I don’t know about all this, Burr,” She feels her hand go up to her scalp to play in her hair. She wants to break the habit, but she really can’t help it. “I don’t like going out too much.”

 

“I know, I get that, but just for a little bit, kay? If you really don’t like it, we can leave in a few minutes. I just want to make my rounds.”

 

He whisks her through the club doors and the whole club shouts. Alex impulsively flinches for the mace in her purse, but quickly loosens up. Seems the crowd is reacting to Aaron, and he’s not a new face around here.

“Aaron,” She says curtly, only about a decibel louder than the rest of the club. “Don’t leave me alone or I swear to god, I’ll hack you into pieces.”

 

“I promise I won’t, I—” He’s shoved in the back suddenly, and Alex clenches her fists.

 

“Asshole!” Alex says, not watching her volume anymore.

 

“Sorry to interrupt—”

 

You’ll be sorry if y—”

 

“Alexandra, chill out,” Aaron says, voice smooth and calm. He slings a hand around the offending person. “This is Hera, we know each other. Chill. Out.”

 

Alex gulps and feels the blush swim across her face. “Sorry,” She mumbles.

 

“Hey, no, you’re fine, you didn’t know.” Aaron says, face serious, comforting hand smoothing her fly away hairs down.

 

“I should’ve used my manners,” Aaron’s friend sheepishly says. “I’m Hera Mulligan. Refer to me as she or her only.” She does something short of a curtsey, and she puts her hand out for Alex to shake, Alex uses caution, but she soon obliges, Hera’s large, muscular hand engulfing hers almost entirely.

 

Hera’s a textbook definition butch, Alex gathers. Her voice has a certain gruff to it that Alex could never muster, even when she was forced to pretend to be a cisgender man. Her eyes are soft though, brown and cool. Calming and tranquil, and they’re a nice juxtaposition to the rest of her look. She’s wearing a leather jacket dotted with buttons and a beanie just as black as the jacket. Tight black skinny jeans, a grey t-shirt, the whole nine. Alex has to look up at her to even have a conversation with her, and she’s not sure how she feels about that. Her skin is the same shade as her eyes, and she has a few scars from god knows what across her face. She has a stud pierced through her right nostril and looking at it makes Alexandra self-consciously fiddle with her own nostril, trying to gauge in her head how she herself would look with one.

 

“Like piercings, huh?” Hera says with a cough after what must’ve been the oddest bout of silence. Alex blinks and apologizes profusely for staring.

 

“I’m so sorry, Hera, is it? You’re just so cool.”

 

She smiles, all teeth, and side hugs Aaron. “I like your friend.” She gestures towards a table past the dancefloor and barstools. “I’m chilling out over there with friends if you want to take a load off.”

 

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Aaron responds. “I’m going to show Alexandra around a little more.”

 

“Suit yourself, we’re here all night!” She fist pumps into the air. “God, I fucking love Fall Break!”

 

Once Hera disappears past the dancers on the floor, Alex gestures at Burr. He leans towards her so she can whisper in her ear.

 

“Does she go to Columbia?”

 

“Even closer, Lady Barnard herself. She’s very big on going to Columbia for graduate though. She’s a junior.”

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

Burr’s eyes widen. “Why? You thinking of—”

 

“God, NO, Burr.”

 

“Just checking in! Because, and I don’t think I need to tell you this, she  _ is  _ definitely a lesbian. Everyone here is. It’s kinda the thing here.”

 

That fact rattles with her nerves, admittedly. She can barely wrap her head around that fact. Lesbians! All of them! Just earlier today, in her Analysis and Optimization class, she was working through Quadratic forms and convex functions with little effort, and yet, her she is, completely confounded. There’s no way everyone here is like her, not a chance.

 

“You’re not a lesbian. You’re actually a pretty gay guy, Burr.”

 

“Hey, hey, I’m experimenting. Weighing through my options, you know?”

 

“So indecisive, Burr. You’re just so indecisive.”

 

Aaron starts to go towards the table Hera showed them, but Alex stops him.

 

“What is it?”

 

She hesitates before she speaks. It’s just so unlike her. “I think I want a drink.”

 

“Oh?” Aaron smirks.

 

“Shut up.” She playfully punches a wrinkle into his shirt. He fakes a wound and goes for his fake ID secure in his pocket. “Shit.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“The fake, it’s not in my pocket.” He feels for it again. “Shit. There’s a hole in my pocket.”

 

“Fuck. Okay. It’s gonna be okay. Don’t panic.” She says this mostly for her own benefit, trying her hardest to channel her faux therapist voice.

 

“We’ll find it, we’ll find it. It’s alright.” Aaron keeps his eyes to the ground to find the card but puts out his right hand for Alex to latch onto. She grabs it with fervor, squeezing it tight to prevent an anxiety attack. Aaron keeps repeating his positive affirmations as he drags Alex about the club, and Alex can feel herself starting to slip.

 

“Excuse me,” someone says from behind Alex.

 

Alex, startled, shouts and swings quickly behind her, effectively slapping whoever tapped her on the shoulder into oblivion with a loud  _ thwack _ !

 

Whoever she hits stumbles backwards into a group of girls behind them, and they fall to the ground before Alex can get out her frantic array or apologies. Something is thrown from their hand when they impact with the ground. Alex adjusts her glasses and squints. It’s Aaron’s ID!

 

She leans down to grab it and forgets she’s holding Aaron’s hand, and drags Aaron to the ground with her. They fall in a heap and push the ID farther across the floor.

 

They’ve amassed a viewing audience now and Alex can’t cover enough of her face to her satisfaction. Aaron rips his face off of the floor and shoots Alex a dirty look.

 

“What the hell, Alexandra?”

 

“I saw the…” She turns her head to where the ID was and it’s no longer there.

 

Alex feels like fucking crying. The music is too goddamn loud. Her heart feels like it’s about to break out of her chest. She wants the ground to grow appendages and drag her into the earth’s crust.

 

“Hey, don’t hit me again, but I think I found your friend’s ID?”

 

Alex turns towards the voice, heeding its words and keeping her hands to herself. When she looks up, she’s ready to cry again.

 

This person, a girl, she presumes, from the ‘Girls Like Girls’ pin she’s wearing, is beautiful. Past Aaron’s ID in her outstretched hand, she can see her face, and it’s quite the sight. Her face is light brown, a tint above russet, and it’s spattered with freckles that shine even in the dim lighting of the club, somewhat like stardust. Her hazel stare might be a little scary in any other context, but Alex can’t find anything but comfort in them in this case, and she nearly sighs audibly in awe.

 

The hand not to Alex is caressing the side of her own lovely face, nursing at the red mark Alex left. 

 

She wants to be struck by lightning.

 

She quickly grabs the ID and collects herself. “I’m so sorry!” She’s sputtering on the way up from the floor.

 

The girl’s stare settles into a companionable gaze once they’re face to face. Not eye to eye, sadly. Alex knows she’s short, and she can really only continue looking in the girl’s eyes with her neck tilted.

 

“It’s okay.” That’s all that the girl speaks after Alex is up.

 

“Alex. Andra. Alexandra. How do you…words. I’m usually not bad with but—yeah. Alexandra. Hamilton.” She puts her hand out for her to shake, but quickly retracts it, only to put it out again, as if she’s leaving a fucking job interview or something. She laughs nervously, curses her faulty tongue in her head.

 

J shakes her hand. “Well, hey there, Alex-andra. I’m J Laurens.”

 

“Jay-Lauren?”

 

She frowns. “No, no, J-dot-Laurens. There’s a space there.”

 

“Ah. Nice. Cute. I mean—as cute as a name can be, I guess. I’m not—I don’t get out a lot. Why…why did I say that. I don’t know. I just, sometimes I talk so much, and I can’t really stop, and then I realize I should stop, and by then I’m already.”

 

“Already…?”

 

“I…I realized I should’ve stopped talking, in the middle of my sentence. It happens.”

 

“Well, thanks for helping me up, pal! You’re the best.” Aaron says, finally gotten up. His words are soaked in sarcasm.

 

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Alexandra, am I interrupting something here?”

 

Alex says a quick “no,” while Aaron goes into a diatribe on Alex’s character, and how they’re so incompatible, it’s almost comical that they live together.

 

“J, it really isn’t—”

 

“Oh, wow, first-name basis? Alexandra must really like you! We met with my friend Hera earlier tonight and she barely even acknowledged anything.”

 

“Burr.” She whispers through gritted teeth. “Please.”

 

“Oh, you know Hera? Hera’s hot as fuck. I love her.”

 

“I know, right?” Aaron says, laughing with J. Alexander can feel her heart starting to wilt.

 

“Yeah, yeah, but the day Hera dates anyone is the day I stop going out on weeknights.” She snickers, and Alex perks up a bit.  _ Hera and J are not dating _ , she notes mentally.  _ That’s good, because Hera’s definitely hotter than me. I wouldn’t stand a chance. _

 

“Are you saying I shouldn’t even try?” Aaron fires back, devious. Alex hears that tone to his voice. He’s about to embark on a challenge, one that definitely extends past the parameters of one night.

 

“I’d like to see that.” J shakes Burr’s hand. “J. Gay girl and gay girl connoisseur.”

 

“Aaron. Trans boy and bi-curious extraordinaire. Charmed.”

 

Alex clears her throat, because she’s seen people from cheesy movies do that when they’re uncomfortable. This is the worst possible thing to happen to anyone ever. Maybe. Probably. Aaron’s charismatic, and he’s reliable with the ladies, lesbians or otherwise. Sure, J’s already expressed an interest in only women, but she doesn’t want to take even the slightest chance.

 

“You should both come over and sit with us, seriously.” J says. She’s gesturing over to where Hera was. “Gil doesn’t dance much, and she’s lonely, and if you like Hera, you’ll definitely like Gil.”

 

“Sure thing, we’d love to.” Aaron says almost immediately. He goes to follow J to the table but Alex tugs him back.

 

“Aaron.” She growls. She puts the ID and a ten dollar bill in his hand. “My drink,  _ please _ .”

Luckily for the duo, the Cubbyhole has daily specials. Alex settles for something called a “Light & Stormy” solely because of the tequila, and Burr sticks to his pretentious PBRs.

 

They’re finally sitting at Hera, J, and Gil’s table. Gil and Hera haven’t stopped cutting up since they sat down, egging J on into silly dancing and rapping over music blaring through the club. Burr whispers to Alex often about how annoying the trio is together, but Alex couldn’t disagree more. She only responds with small smiles and sticking her tongue out.

 

“This is only tolerable because of alcohol, to be completely honest.” Aaron says at one point.

 

“Who’s the one who needs an attitude change now, hm?  _ I _ think they’re cool.”

 

“Oh, hush, Alexandra. You’re only saying that because you want to get with one of them. Hera, huh?”

 

Alex keeps her smile tight. She gazes wistfully at J.  _ Half right _ , she supposes.

“I’m really glad you guys dragged me out here tonight,” Gil says after the laughter dies down a bit. She adjusts her hijab so the bar food she’s ordered doesn’t drip onto it. “I was really hesitant because you know—,” She gestures to her scarf, makes a face. Hera giggles. “I don’t know, so many people make such a big deal. In a setting like this, I just—just, thanks.”

 

“Of course, Gil, we’re always going to drag you along for our poor decisions.” Hera replies, and she steals one of Gil’s hot wings.

 

“I wouldn’t say it’s a poor decision. I’m having a great time.”

 

“You practically live here, J, of course you’re having a great time. Gay.” Hera says, shoving at J. J falls out of her chair from the force of the push, but laughs anyway.

 

“Oh my god, Laurens, are you drunk? You barely finished your third drink,” Burr says. He’s opening his fifth PBR.

 

“I’m working on it! Just a little buzzed. Probably gonna snooze on the subway ride back.”

 

Alex checks her watch. 12:37 am. Jesus.

 

“How are you doing there, Lex?” J asks as she gets off of the floor for the second time that night.

 

Alex nearly melts at the nickname. “I’m good, it’s just getting kinda late, and I like ending the night in my bed.”

 

“I also like ending the night in the bed of a beautiful woman,” J says, so smoothly, like it’s nothing. Alex blushes and her hands fly up to cover her face. “We have so much in common,” J continues.

 

“J, leave the poor thing alone, she’s suffering.” Gil chastises.

 

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just  _ teeeasing. _ ” J chugs the remainder of her drink and slams the empty mug on the table. “I’m gonna dance just a little more, then we can all head back together, okay? Since Alex looks pretty tired.”

 

“I’m not tired,” Alex lies.

 

“Oh? Well, maybe you have enough energy for a dance then?”

 

This close, Alex can take in more details of J’s face. She has more piercings than Hera, but the jewelry is so tiny it’s less noticeable. She notices around 3 silver studs in her ears, and she assumes there are more in her cartilage, currently shrouded by her beanie. The hair that leaks from under her hat is curly and deep brown, and it’s drenched in sweat. Her eyes are still mesmerizing, and Alex has to forcibly pull herself from staring again.

 

“Oh, you know what?” Alex fakes a yawn. “You’re so right, I am just exhausted. You go ahead without me.”

 

“Daaaamn, you just got fucking curved,” Hera yells and beats on the table. Gil joins in the jeering, simply going  _ Ooooooh _ !

 

“Suit yourself, cutie. The offer’s still on the table if you find it in ya.” And with that, J leaves to join the few girls still on the dancefloor.

 

“What was that?” Aaron shouts as soon as J’s out of earshot. He’s a little loud, evidence of his intoxication.

 

“What? I  _ am _ tired.” Alex shrugs, and throws in another fake yawn, just to be convincing,

 

“Bullshit. Bullshit. Alex…” He leans on her. “ _ Alex _ . You’re always telling me to chase what I want, right? You gotta do that, Alex. You can’t just let her get away from you like that.”

 

“I knew something was up. I’m never wrong. Ever.” Gil says smugly, arms crossed over her chest.

 

“I can’t, Burr.”

 

“Alex…”

 

“I can’t, Burr.”

 

“Al— _ ex _ ,” He whines.

 

“Burr! Oh my god! I’ve played your game all night, okay? I’m trying! But I’m not you! There are just some things I can’t just do! This is a lot, okay? Meeting new people, being around all these people, it’s hard! Maybe not for you, but I’m not  _ like  _ you! I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do all of this, and if I am ever able to, it’s not going to change in a night!”

 

The table’s quiet now. Alex is so fed up she can barely register anything but the anger in her head. Not Hera trying to chew her chips quietly, and not the music still going in the background of the bar.

 

Aaron squints. His eyes are narrow and shifty, like he’s about to steal something from right under Alex’s nose.

 

“Fine. Then you won’t mind if I chase it, would you?”

 

“What?”

 

Aaron suddenly stands, wobbles, and balances himself using his chair. Once he’s up and stable, he waddles towards J. Alex watches in horror as they exchange a few words and start dancing together, drunk and giddy.

 

“Oh, shit.” Hera says.

 

“Oh, shoot.” Gil agrees.

 

The DJ announces that the specials at the bar are ending soon, and she switches the music to something much slower and sensual. Some cheers come from the groups of people dancing and everyone seems to break off into pairs to move to the music.

 

Aaron gestures between himself and J and J seems to agree with whatever he’s suggesting. She turns her back to him and grinds into him slowly, making a real show out it. Aaron slides his hand from the side of her face to her hips and holds her close to make grinding easier. He puts his face to her neck and Alex can see him clearly mouth the words to whatever song they’re dancing to in her skin. She laughs, a full body laugh, and it makes her body quake, and Alex can feel herself reeling.

 

Hera is stammering at the nerve of it all. Gil has resigned to simple blinking, her mouth covered by both hands seemingly glued to her face.

 

They watch the blatant displays of affection and borderline fornication for nearly three songs. Rihanna’s  _ Kiss it Better  _ starts up and Alex can barely stand it. She’s back to wishing the floor would swallow her whole, consumed totally by envy. She sits at the table now, defeated, and slams her face on the surface repeatedly.

 

“That’s not—hey, stop it, that’s not healthy. Please stop,” Gil says, putting her hand between Alex’s face and the table as a buffer.

 

“Alex, don’t worry about it too much, okay? J’s really gay and not into Burr. She just likes to play around a bit when she’s drunk, alright? She’s pretty reckless.” Hera reassures her.

 

“Mess,” Gil says.

 

“You can say that again,” Hera says with a snicker and a nod.

 

The couple in question returns to the table, smiles big and giggles aplenty. “Whew,” J sighs, wiping her brow. “Alright, I’m burning up and the room is spinning. Time to go home.”

 

“I have the money, we could just Uber to Brooks.” Gil suggests. Brooks, as in, Brooks of Barnard College. Interesting development.

 

“Please, let’s go. Please.” J cries, getting delirious.

 

“We’ll use the subway,” Alex says sharply. “Enjoy your ride back.”

 

“That’s chill, see you guys around.” Hera speaks this goodbye and waves at Alex and Aaron. She and Gil then hoist J up to drag her out of the bar.

 

“Oh, and Burr? Thanks, man,” J says, holding a slip of paper in her hand. Even with the distance, Alex can see numbers scribbled onto it.

 

A telephone number. In Burr’s chicken-scratch handwriting.

 

Once they get into the building, Aaron faceplants onto his bed. Alex angrily throws her covers around and wrestles into her own bed.

 

“Don’t even fucking think about me while you sleep, you fucking traitor. You fucking—” She tosses a pillow his way, and it lands directly over his face. He’s almost too drunk to move it, but he manages it off. He gurgles and dry-heaves a bit.

 

“I hope you choke on your goddamn vomit, you manipulative son-of-a-bitch. Choke! Fucking die!” She slams herself onto her pillows—only three now, but she has too much pride to get up and get the other one. She pulls her comforter over her face and looks through her phone prepared to rant for the remainder of the night across all of her social media platforms.

 

She has a notification she didn’t notice in her rage, one from an unknown number. She opens it with an eye-roll, ready to chuck her phone across the room if it’s ridiculous.

 

**Unknown:** Heyyyy Lex, its J, Aaron gave me your number and told me you were really cool, are you still up? :)

 

Alex gets up from her bed, retrieves the thrown pillow, and helps Aaron to the bathroom so he can vomit.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [tumblr](http://stonerjohnlaurens.tumblr.com)
> 
> [fanart](http://stonerjohnlaurens.tumblr.com/post/152145233538/mustangsflame-stonerjohnlaurens-heres-the), [fanart](http://stonerjohnlaurens.tumblr.com/post/152170543338/nnariareynolds-stonerjohnlaurens-this-au), [fanart](http://stonerjohnlaurens.tumblr.com/post/150432796748/frogyell-stonerjohnlaurens-the-lesbianlams-au)!


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